


If I Needed You

by dawnstonedust (dawnstonedagger)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Biological Imperative, Biting, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Dubious Consent, Elves are Dicks, F/M, Impregnation, Sex Pollen, Slavery, no really, this is embarassing, what is logic when there can be bad porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3856045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstonedagger/pseuds/dawnstonedust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After collapsing while on an expedition, Abelas confronts Ellana Lavellan with strange truth about life in Ancient Arlathan. As a slave, he is bound by a geas that once a year overtakes his mind and drives him to seek out a fertile woman, willing or unwilling to impregnate. Soon, he will completely lose control, and she needs to decide quickly whether and how to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Needed You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14317.html?thread=54185709#t54185709
> 
>  
> 
> _Was anyone else disappointed when the cute elf hunk didn't come along with you when you invited him? I know I was. I also had the thought, hey wouldn't it be fun to mess around with ancient elf biology?_  
>  _Prompt: After the Well of Sorrows Abelas joins up for whatever reason A!A chooses and all goes well for whatever amount of time. The kicker being that ancient elves (Like Abelas) used to have some sort of mating season, in which the females would go into heat and the males would go into a fuck-or-die kind of state (they don't have to actually die, maybe it just sucks REALLY bad) As time marched on, the males quit being able to sense the hormones that the females put off and business went on as usual UNTIL NOW._  
>  _Kisses and hugs for a Lavellan that's spent some time with him around Skyhold and has become emotionally attached. And unspeakable acts for a little bit of mindless dry-humping (because who doesn't want to see big bad elf man, mindless with want?)_
> 
>  
> 
> \-----  
> A/N: I'm assuming Abelas was a temple slave because he has the vallaslin. The geas ignores Sera because she's not ovulating.

Ellana knew something was bothering Abelas, for he'd been unusually talkative since the day after they'd set out. She'd also caught him staring at her intently, almost heated or frustrated, as if contemplating a puzzle for which he could not perceive the answer. Solas used to give her that look sometimes, he, another of the Elvhen so he claimed; perhaps it was simply something peculiar to ancient elves. There were so many things he'd neglected to tell her before he left.

Abelas did not part with information without consideration, either, but he could be counted upon to communicate honestly. The few months he'd spent with the Inquisition were entirely in an effort to locate others like himself, those Elvhen who lingered, and he made no secret of it. Ellana couldn't have been happier to assist him, for she too had an interest in preserving what remained of her people, though he considered hers mere shadows of his own. She wished he'd tell her what was on his mind.

Would that she had more to offer, than supplies and a promise of protection, as their small party traversed the fringes of the Free Marches. If they had access to the eluvians again, he claimed so much of this would be easier. For now, they had to travel by horse or hart.

Ahead of her on the trail she could hear Blackwall and Sera joking with each other, their horses side by side. She tugged the reins to slow her hart, and let Abelas catch up with her, though by his expression she'd only made him more irritated. The only benefit was that his eyes weren't boring holes in her back any longer.

“Are you all right?” she asked in Elven. Ellana had grown more fluent, as he was unopposed to filling in and correcting the gaps in her grasp of the tongue. She wondered if it was just her imagination, or if he seemed paler than usual. She could see a thin sheen of sweat on his face under his cowl, though it wasn't hot, nor even humid this close to the mountains.

“It is nothing. My slumber was restless, and I've been adjusting to certain other changes, now that I am unable to go back into stasis,” he said, pointedly staring forward, his mouth set in a hard line. If he wouldn't open up to her, she could only guess that it had to do with his immortality seeping away, his body quickening, unsustained by the goddess or the temple.

“We can camp early. The terrain ahead is more treacherous, and we've made good time.”

“That is not necessary.”

“Please, think nothing of it. I owe you a great deal. If I had drunk from the Well, I might even comprehend how much,” she said, worried that she was overreacting. His stoicism might be commendable, but they needed to be alert and able—between the hostile wildlife and numerous demons that infested this area, they'd already had to defend themselves several times.

“If you had drunk, you would owe me nothing, only Mythal.”

“She would likely agree.”

He gave a grunt and nodded under his cowl. “That she appeared to you incarnate as a human, it troubles me. But who am I to question the All-Mother's choice? Regardless of her form, I must answer if called,” he said, his voice sounding strained, his breathing uneven.

“Abelas?”

He swayed and before she could move to try to catch him, Abelas fell limp from the saddle and onto the ground. This startled his hart, which gave a great bellow and pranced in a half-circle, nearly trampling him. Ellana pulled her hart up short and dismounted, running to his side; a little ways in the distance, her companions turned in alarm, drawing their weapons.

“Stand down, we're not under attack. Go find a place to set camp,” she shouted to them as they rode up. “I'll help him.” If she could help him.

“What's this then?” asked Sera, her lip curled in amusement at seeing the ancient elf sprawled on the ground. “Been getting into the brandy, has he?”

“Go,” she repeated, as Abelas stirred beside her, groaning.

His cowl had fallen back, revealing his bare scalp and his sharply pointed ears. Mythal's vallaslin curved around his severe features in a familiar and delicate lattice, green as vines. He gave her a warning look, as he propped himself up on his arm.

“Not so close,” he murmured. “The song, I haven't heard it in... The priests, they had a draught against it, but they're gone, too.” He gasped and recoiled, as she ignored his advice, trying to help him sit up. He was acting like her touch burned him.

“I don't understand,” she said.

“Your fortune to have been born into a different world,” he laughed bitterly. “You could not know what effect you might have on me, and truly I had forgotten. All the remaining women of the temple were well beyond their fertile years. You, however, you look and sound and smell like the goddess' gift to me right now. It is driving me mad trying to resist,” he said, his deep-set, yellow eyes narrowed at her, something savage and hungry behind them.

Ellana blushed at his words, unused to such intensity of emotion from him. He looked away, reaching for the stirrup of his hart's saddle, trying to pull himself up. He seemed to want to distance himself from her.

“Resist what?” she asked, but it came to her as she spoke. He couldn't possibly, mean that, though. They were friendly, even fond, and she did enjoy it when they'd found time to sit and talk, but she'd never considered him in terms of a lover because of his stoic, dignified nature.

“It is a spell, a sort of geas placed on adult slaves, which I am under. It makes—made it easier for the high priests of the temple to control when we procreated and with whom. For me, the compulsion lasts through this moon every year. If it is not inhibited, am bound to seek fulfillment, until the conditions of the geas are met. Put bluntly, I need to find a fecund woman and seed a child in her. You might not sense it, but you are one such, a woman in full flower. I cannot help but want to have you. I fear I may lose control of myself,” he said, fists clenched at his sides, an air of desperation in his voice.

Ellana didn't feel anything odd about herself, hear any kind of song except for the autumn wind. If it had been someone else she might have laughed, but she couldn't see why Abelas would suddenly reveal such a humiliating fact of his existence to her. He clearly suffered real, physical effects from it, effects that might drive him to something very regrettable if she understood him correctly.

“I never realized such a thing was possible. Can the geas be broken?”

“With my death, or the hand which placed it. It may be best if I depart from this expedition, before you are forced to kill me. I should have when I began feeling the effects, a few days ago. Now, I do not think I could leave your side.”

“But we've come here to aid you. The whole point of this trip was to see if any of your people remained in stasis at Mythal's other temples. You're the only one who knows where to find them without the eluvians.”

“It is very unlikely that they survive. In any case, you do not deserve to be subjected to something that your people did well away with.” He sounded defeated, which disturbed her deeply. His determination to find more of his people, was what had inspired her to help him.

“What if I accept?”

“You can not be serious,” he said, looking back at her sharply. Ellana held his gaze, her chin out, ready to be stubborn.

“If the geas is satisfied, you'll no longer be tormented by my presence?” she asked, hedging around the truth of it, but they both knew what she meant.

“Yes, but-”

“You also said there was once a draught, a potion to lessen the effects of the geas, correct?” she asked, studying his face again, seeing his puzzlement coalesce into understanding.

“I do not know if it yet exists, nor have I the knowledge to create it, but yes.”

Ellana nodded to herself, convinced that she could save their excursion, help Abelas, and fulfill a certain longstanding obligation to her clan, all at the same time. She did not find the idea of laying with him objectionable—he was handsome and hale, and she liked his company. Whether anything more between them came of it, only time would tell; there was no guarantee she'd even carry the child to term.

“I imagine the other surviving sentinels need it as well. If I help you, and we have finished with the temple, you must seek out this potion and make sure your people have access to it. I want and will have responsibility for the rest.”

She would have to tell her advisers immediately when she returned, whatever her decisions. The Inquisition had resources, if they were concerned for her reputation; she had not spent the past three years carefully accumulating allies and favors without knowing eventually they would be needed to be made use of.

“I can scarcely think, but I feel you are making a terrible mistake,” he said, shaking his head at her.

“It's my mistake to make.”

“Very well. I find I can not say no.”

Quickly scribing a message for her companions to find, on a piece of yellow parchment, Ellana pinned it to a nearby tree with her red-wrapped belt dagger which bore the Inquisition's symbol. They'd have at least a day before the other two started tearing up the hills looking for them. She didn't intend to go far, just a ways from the road, a spot a bit more private where they could leave the harts to graze. It didn't take long to find a desirable clearing.

Abelas had her on her back in the grass and leaves, before she could so much as remove her helm. They were both armed and heavily armored, so this was not comfortable in the least, but he couldn't seem to help himself, pressing his hips into hers, desperate for contact, instinctively rocking forward. Then he yanked off his gauntlets one at a time, still pinning her, and started in on the buckles at her waist. Under his wild, animalistic gaze, she worked on the harness that held the top half of her armor together, and her daggers on her back.

“You might want to see to yourself, or you're not going to get any further, lethallin,” she teased, tugging off her helmet.

Growling something low in Elven, he pushed up onto his knees. First shrugging off his heavy mantle, he made short work of the fastenings to his breastplate, watching her intently as she also disrobed. More quickly than she'd thought possible, the plates of gilded ironbark were put aside, her everite armor next to it. He knelt before her in the gold-threaded, padded undercoat and leggings that protected his skin from the armor, while she lay in her soft leathers. She'd tugged them down far enough to give him access to her core, leaving her ass bare to the prickly ground. It was too cold to strip naked, though she scarcely felt it, aroused as she was by the intensity of his lust.

Abelas didn't hesitate, and his cock, once exposed was pale and pink at the tip, the foreskin pulled tightly back; he looked painfully hard. When he lowered himself upon her, Ellana slid her hand between them, to help guide him in. She gasped as he entered, for he was large for an elf, but she was wet, and more than ready for him. He groaned with relief, shuddering, seating himself in her as far as possible, the walls of her core stretching to take his length.

It had been far too long since she'd last had a lover, but she hadn't forgotten how much she liked this feeling, of being filled, of having someone as close as physically possible. For a moment it wasn't about mercy, or pity, or taking a calculated risk, but a joining of spirits.

Abelas mouthed a prayer to his goddess, drew out and thrust into her again, Ellana lifting her hips to meet him. At first, he seemed so intent on mindlessly rutting into her, it took a few tries to establish a rhythm, but soon she had him moving with her, driving deep and hard at a steady pace. Catching his eyes was harder, as he didn't seem to want to look at her. She let her hands drift down to caress his ass, and knead her fingers into the firm flesh there. A wicked smile played across her lips, as he finally glanced down at her, his own mouth turned up.

Slipping the hand he wasn't using to support himself behind her head, Abelas wound his fingers into her hair, tugging her head back, seemingly to expose more of her neck. Ellana sighed as he bent down and worked his tongue over the arch of it, sucked at her when she began to pant and then bit down hard as her moans intensified. White light played behind her eyes as pleasure flowed through her in a bright wave. She had the vague notion that there would be marks, and possibly blood.

A second orgasm jolted her, as she tried to catch her breath, and he worked his way up to her ear, nipping along the length of it, still driving into her. She'd lost the ability to keep up, gasping, her legs having gone weak, heels digging into the cold grass, her nails tearing helplessly at the soft fabric protecting his back as he rocked into her. Soon after, he began to falter too, and his grip tightened in her hair, as he let his head drop, panting, fucking her hard against the ground.

With a snarl he came, sucking his breath through his teeth, then biting her shoulder, then her neck and her ear again, while she felt the warmth of his seed fill her. He seemed to regain his senses as he slowed, suckling at her ear apologetically, and after a time he stopped moving within her. Spent and panting, he seemed reluctant to pull away, still pinning her with his hips. He stroked her hair, and then looked at her with something like regret in his eyes.

“Would you have me again? This could take a several attempts,” he said, solemn-faced and intense as he'd been before.

“Yes, but we ought put up the tent. Nightfall isn't far off.”

“Of course,” he said, though he didn't appear interested in freeing her. Abelas was just hard enough, that her overstimulated flesh quivered when he did shift, and Ellana gave a surprised gasp.

“Would you come to my bed without the geas forcing you?” she asked then, curious what he was like when not being compelled.

“How quick you are to lay claim to my ancient bones,” he said with a laugh, and shook his head, starting again when he saw her start to pout. “Forgive me. Yes, I would,” he said. He offered her a soft, sad smile, drawing himself up, and parting from her body most reluctantly.

Her rapturous song and scent, which tormented Abelas through the geas, did not abate with the morning. Though she felt sore from the previous night, she let him begin again where they'd left off—she'd fallen asleep astride him, lying across his chest, and he was still inside her when she woke. He finished quickly, that they might break camp and go search for their other companions.

Ellana wasn't looking forward to facing them. Blackwall and Sera were as thick as thieves, and would be teasing her mercilessly for the rest of the trip. Sera would be particularly insufferable, when she found out the truth of it, as she had no pride in being an elf; she knew she wouldn't care for the notion that Ellana preferred that her children to be fully of the People.

And there would be a child. Though she had not yet felt any changes within herself, she knew it by the third day after Abelas had taken her on the ground. Ellana could tell from the way he sat his hart, he was less tightly wound, his eyes having softened. She wasn't troubling him any longer. At least, not in the way she had before.

At night, when they curled up together in her tent, many questions lay between them unasked. Was the unexpected bond they had formed meant to continue? Did she need him to stay with her? What did he want? It was too new, the reality of it almost unfathomable. This made for a strange tension between them, which Sera prodded her about, and Blackwall offered concerned glances over. She tried to talk about anything else, while Abelas reverted to his outward stoicism, concentrating on the road ahead.

Finding the temple proved to be almost as futile as Abelas claimed it would be. Only picked over ruins, half-concealed by a landslide, waited for them. The chamber where the priests and slaves and sentinels would have slept, was empty even of bones. Those who had slumbered here, could have woken ages ago, and been folded into the world unnoticed. Whatever they'd protected had been destroyed, and without a purpose, the ancient elves had to move on and find a new one.

They did find one useful object, in a side chamber that only Abelas knew was there. A small eluvian, a little larger than a door, intact, untainted. An artifact more rare and precious she couldn't have hoped to have seen again. They wouldn't be able to take it with them, but she planned to have Cullen send a larger party to collect it, as soon as she could get a raven to him.

Which meant rejoining civilization, facing her recklessness, and Josephine's fury at her destroying all of her careful planning, with a child that would come with the summer.

Ellana knew if it came down to it, they could afford to throw their own parties, that the fawning envoys could come to her at Skyhold and scrape at her feet and drink her wine for once. She was powerful enough that she didn't need to go to them, anymore. It was her home, and would be her children's, too, and Abelas' if he so chose.


End file.
